With a fancy title like “Climate Change Chronicles” I’m sure there are expectations for some kind of salute to the environment and that silent killer – GLOBAL WARMING… well, I put that in all CAPS so that’s enough of a salute. If I confessed that I was taking time out of some crucial work to put down this blog post, I wonder if lightening will strike me (well I just won’t confess).
Now, back to our fancy title… You see *she said conspiratorially* it all started a little over two weeks ago when I uprooted myself from my humble abode and set out on a journey of discovery (appropriate thematic music plays in the background). In truth, our story begins many years ago when our heroine had grande dreams of self-discovery and such and such, but let’s not get into all that now. So, a couple of weeks ago, a message came through and off I was to that very land where self-discovery was imminent (according to the brochures), and so I packed my bags and baggages (as our people say) and took the next available flight to the land of ‘just enough’, ye olde England! I wonder if I should bore you with tales of airplane food and a lonely Frankfurt airport in the middle of the night but I have decided in my infinite wisdom, to leave all that to your fertile imagination (maybe in an upcoming ‘travel’ post…).
Anyway, here I arrived on a cold and crisp Sunday morning, wondering if this was all an elaborate dream (nightmare?) and I would click my heels thrice and find myself back in my apartment sweating because PHCN had decided to play fast and loose with the electricity. But NO, it was all too real, I had arrived in the coveted ‘white man’s land’ with nothing but my wits and a few pounds to hold me. While waiting in line for the immigration officer to talk down to me, I began to work out the details of my future in my head, wondering if it would start with a notice that there was something wrong with my visa and end with me being deported (kicking and screaming, of course) after seeing a glimmer of the promised land through the bars of my cell (yes, in my imagination there was a cell!). Unfortunately for my overactive imagination though, there was no such thing. You cannot possibly imagine my disappointment when the immigration officer was completely polite and even joked about something or the other, as I watched my planned resentment fizzle out before my very eyes. After that, I was pretty disarmed, and ready to accept my new masters, for the next two minutes anyway.
After this disarming immigration officer, the next highlight of my arrival was the fact that I was going to see my brother, the one we call “Bros”, whose presence at the homestead had been demanded and then pleaded for by his very loving parents over the years. I was glowing at the thought that I would now be an authority on the welfare of Bros as the only source of first hand information to the folks back home (I take my victories where I can get them). Having retrieved my property from baggage claim, I walked out to meet Bros, remembering those days when I used to run and jump in his arms whenever he deemed it right to grace us with his presence. I wondered if there would be any squeals of delight or running this time, I seriously considered running AND squealing, but ultimately decided to ‘act my age’ and not embarrass him or any onlookers with any gushing emotion.
And so, I walked into the arrivals terminal, and there Bros was, I must admit there was a little squealing but very little running or jumping. I will tell you though, that there is nothing quite like a familiar and welcoming presence to take the edge off arriving alone in a foreign land with no way back and your family’s expectations weighing you down like a ton of bricks.
(more to come at an as yet undetermined future date)